The World Beneath Her Feet
by La Dormeuse
Summary: Hitomi knows just how unromantic a betrothal can be. But with only lamplight, her fiance, a desk and a very provocative dress, how will her evening improve, if at all? She can only wish she was wearing underwear. V/H Slightly Dark.


A/N: Ok this is graphic and I mean graphic. I can feel my good catholic soul *cough* burning a smidge. Warnings are slightly more than obvious, there are hints of unwanted force, it veers in that direction, but do not fear good readers! The lemon is juicy! Or so I believe :P

If you aren't a fan or worried merely at my warning, don't read. Or don't read and flame. Save your keyboard.

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The World Beneath Her Feet

It had been yet another stupid argument.

He had called her a child. A child. She was turning twenty in two months and he had the gall in all his immature glory to label _her_ as a child.

She was going to give up every single part of her life on Earth, the Mystic Moon as he called it, just for him. Well maybe not just him, after all that gave the impression that they were head over heels in love with each other, the living embodiments of the sappy parts of Romeo and Juliet. But it wasn't, not even close. They had been betrothed before either had been born. Before her parents had relocated from Fanelia to a chain of islands called Nippon, to another planet; an arrangement had been made between the Fanel and the Kanzaki families.

So here sat Hitomi Kanzaki, fiancée to the Fanelian King, curled up on the sofa in her parents' house. Trying her very hardest not to cry, she told herself that it was perfectly acceptable to go on a date with another man. The betrothal was merely a contract between their parents. Van had made it clear on numerous occasions that he didn't want anything more to do with her than was required. Nor was he in any way attracted to her. So he had no right to complain if she decided to accept an invitation to dinner from someone else.

She just had to erase the reality where she had sat for three agonizing hours, trying not to be groped spectacularly and keeping herself from shifting around with the most uncomfortable underwear possible. Why did she have a best friend who rummaged in _her_ underwear drawer and then forced her to buy garments that were supposedly _more appropriate_ for dating? It was definitely a good thing that Yukari had no idea about her family's arrangement with a King on another planet. Her somewhat delusional best friend would no doubt gush over the romance and sheer Disney feel of it all. Hitomi would disagree substantially.

Van wasn't Prince Charming, or even General Shang. He was more like Jafar, he would probably even enjoy forcing her to wear a gauzy red slutty outfit, but it would be just to humiliate her.

Curling up tighter on the sofa she gritted her teeth against the feel of impossibly itchy lace under her dress. How the hell did women feel more attractive with a cheese grater up their ass? She had tried her best not to waddle like a penguin carrying an egg between their feet. Apparently Shin-kun hadn't noticed, as his eyes had been permanently fixed on her revealing cleavage. It was another reason why she wanted a new best friend.

Yukari hadn't been content with just buying underwear for her date. Hitomi had secretly panicked at first, wondering just what her best friend expected her to do on a _first_ date. But the underwear experience had been miniscule compared to the entire day she had spent trailing behind the rambunctious redhead, babbling about high waists, necklines and panty-lines. The last term she had never heard in Gaea during hours of dreadfully boring dress fittings, and it was probably a good thing.

Not that Van was probably even aware of her underwear or in any way interested. He probably thought she still played with dolls. Sighing, she turned her gaze back to the TV, barely paying any attention to the ninja on screen. Naruto had lost its soul cleansing quality and any ramen she made would be tasteless after the epic failure of a date she had been on.

Slowly she shuffled back against the cushions and pulled her knees up to her chest, despite the tight fit of the uncomfortably revealing dress Yukari had forced her into. With a yelp, it was the underwear once again that reminded her of just how atrocious a night it had been. And she didn't want any more recollections of just what an awful date it had been.

A fit of anger consumed her; jumping off the sofa and knocking over a volley of cushions she didn't care if the curtains were open or that anyone could look in and see, she hitched her clingy silvery dress up over her hips. Her fury was directed at every person involved in her terrible love life, cursing her parents, brother, Yukari, her idiot friend Shin and wonderboy himself, Van. She tugged at the scratchy white lace hugging her backside, delighted by the tearing sound, pushing it down over her knees and kicking it away from her once it dropped to the floor.

Hitomi was not an exhibitionist by any means, but the feel of the cool air and the soft cotton of her dress as it slid back down over her legs was pure heaven. Maybe there was a reason why so many celebrities went commando, especially if the underwear they bought felt like a sandpaper diaper. It felt rather comfortable too.

With a rather more relaxed demeanour, she sat back on the sofa, shuffling around happily without any discomfort and snuggled against a large fluffy cushion to watch the rest of the DVD. So what if her very first ever date was comparable to a Greek Tragedy, there would be plenty more to come with much better looking guys and far more comfortable underwear. Maybe then her parents would realize how pointless her betrothal was. All she had left to do was to persuade Van, without insulting him, to break off the betrothal himself.

But for now she would sit back and try to enjoy the Chunin Exams or at least pay attention.

xoxox

"Ngh," came from her mouth as she struggled to sit up, her hand flailing out in reach for the back of the sofa. Her head swivelled round and her eyes narrowed as she only gripped thin air.

Once more she had fallen asleep only to wake up on another planet. This time however, she was not in any mood for encountering the Fanelian King, her _betrothed_. At least it was night time here as well; she hated moving from Earth mid-morning only to arrive on Gaea mid-evening. She had had far too many breakfasts and dinners immediately one after the other.

With a loud, obnoxious yawn she swung her bare legs onto the floor and sighed at the deep pile carpet under her toes. She rolled her eyes at her painted toenails, another frivolity Yukari had insisted on, even though her shoes were close toed. Apparently her best friend believed it was acceptable to instigate a round of footsy under the table on a first date. That was Yukari, not her.

Her eyes were still half-open after the deep sleep she had fallen into. It couldn't have been for too long surely, but it didn't matter all that much. All she had to do was open the door of the room, orientate herself in the Palace and then head to her set of rooms. If she was lucky she would avoid any meddling maids, aggravating courtiers, or Van himself. He hated when she walked off after an argument and would no doubt want to start another.

It would also be very uncomfortable to bump into her betrothed wearing a silvery gray mini dress, wearing more make up than usual and in Yukari's opinion — looking like a sex siren. The point would only be hammered home further if he saw her and paid no attention to her state of attire. As much as he saw her as a small, incapable child, it would only be made worse for any smidgen of her dignity remaining to find him reacting with apathy.

Her best bet was to focus on the warm, soft bed awaiting her. Even better would be uninterrupted sleep until midday if she reached the rooms free of harassment as the maids wouldn't be aware of her presence. Yes, it would be a perfect weekend.

She yawned once more and swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, arching her back to soothe the crick in her neck with a little moan. Her hands moved to either side of her legs, ready to push herself off the comfortable chaise longue only to stop in utter shock. Her eyes could focus properly now and she realized just how implausible her wish had been.

A lamp glowed at the other end of the chamber, sat atop a desk providing light for both the man sat at the desk and for her to see just who it was. Not that anyone else would be sat in the King's private study, writing at his desk. But he clearly wasn't writing as her unsteady gaze met his sharp garnet eyes. Her fingers sank into the chaise longue, preparing herself for a confrontation.

She hadn't been betrothed to the man since birth without coming to understand his manners and the meaning of his gestures. His gaze was cold, calculating and Hitomi felt herself squirm under his scrutiny. Her fists clenched tighter, secretly wishing she could rip the fine material of the sofa in anger as he raised a single eyebrow and then turned away in dismissal, the scratch of his quill the only sound she could hear other than her breathing.

Her gaze turned slightly to a large floor length window to her right.

The few times she had entered his office, she had usually been guided towards the desk or a table to sign a document of some kind. Sitting as she was, she had a magnificent view of the city below her. A city she would rule over as Queen. A rueful smile slid across her face at the childhood dream of so many little girls, to marry a Prince or King and live happily ever after. Hitomi knew better.

But the view of the city sweeping across the valley that spread out towards the forests enthralled her. Even though night had already fallen on Gaea, she could see flickering lights in various buildings in the separate enclaves, taverns, and homes. It was breathtaking compared to the neon sledgehammer that was Tokyo at night. As much as her classmates on a High School trip had been enthralled at the multitude of glowing signs, she had almost missed the warm glow of oil lamps and candles that illuminated Fanelia.

With one last loving glance at the kingdom she adored despite its King, she slid her hands over the edge of the chaise longue and pushed herself up slowly. It was clear Van was not interested in her state of attire nor any reason for it, so she felt no need to say anything. Maybe when she reached the door she would say goodnight and slip out before he could respond and try to ignite yet another argument. She was too tired.

Her legs felt unsteady but she managed to walk slowly through the wonderfully soft carpet a few paces before she found an obstacle in her path.

If there was one thing she was intrigued by in her betrothed, it was his heritage. He had told her of his Draconian mother and only that. She had had to read laboriously to discover the genetic strain that gave Draconians wings. And it was something she could not stop thinking about. Whether or not her fiancé was attractive was not important, but Hitomi felt enchanted by the concept of him having snowy white wings, contrasting with the deep sunkissed tan he had. She had never been sure of whether to ask about them or not.

She sighed at the blood red tunic in front of her. Another of her betrothed's talents was an imperceptible speed. He could move like lightening across a room, along a street, or between trees in a forest. It would be impossible to try and avoid him. So she lifted her chin confidently, but not defiant or angry and kept her gaze neutral. "If it is acceptable my Lord, I wish to take my leave."

Her tone was as calm and dispassionate without seeming rude and she saw the lack of reaction in his eyes, praying he would step aside silently and wait until the morning to start another argument. To call her a child in woman's clothing or something else malicious. Maybe if she waited for him to reply, then she could attempt an escape.

If all else failed she could start to cry. The one thing that guaranteed a swift end to any argument or insult slinging was to start crying before him. Hitomi had often wondered what had traumatized him so much to render him silent every time she faked tears. It was a good thing he remained gullible in that aspect, but she had grown tired of the juvenile act and it only reinforced his words. Curling her fists once more she sighed as he stared down at her imperceptibly.

She had the creeping feeling of annoyance and decided that if he raised an eyebrow again in mockery or any way insulting, she would slap him. It had been quite a few years since she had last given in to that impulse and she still woke up from dreams recalling the situation and the utter shock on his face with bubbling glee.

Inhaling quickly, she turned her ankle a fraction to dart towards the door.

Everything moved so fast she had no idea that they had moved at all until she felt the cold, smooth wood of the desk behind her. Her hands were splayed in different directions. One gripped the edge of the desk in support from shock, the other hand had clenched a fistful of the red tunic, the tips of her fingers feeling the unnatural warmth coming from his skin.

Not that her fingers were the only part of her body in contact with his. She whimpered in embarrassment and threw her gaze to the floor as she tried to shift away from the ornately designed wooden frame digging into her back, only to press against a taut firm chest and her hips cradled by his. She didn't dare look up at him.

There was no need to.

It was perfectly clear to her that Van had learnt the art of humiliation perfectly, his hands parallel to her hips, his arms trapping her against him and the desk, his chest brushing hers. Maybe he would continue the _childish_ argument, pretending to sexually harass her to prove his point. A stray thought entered her mind and she was torn between disgust and superiority. She could prove to him that in no way was she a child.

Hitomi merely had to pretend that she was attracted to him and was interested in…well…_that_.

Her blush of thinking of Van in _that_ way was the perfect way to pretend she found their position arousing. Maybe she could…

The sound of her foot hitting the front of the desk was almost inaudible to her over her racing heart and the panic shooting through her veins as she felt a warm, callused finger slide up her cold, bare shoulder. The blazing trail led up to her chin and she forced herself to keep her eyes open. Her bare foot hit the desk again as she scrabbled backwards only to be propelled forwards even more forcefully against him at his expression.

Whatever idea she had of trying to lead Van on, collapsed into nothing at the heated gaze she met. The shudder couldn't be stopped and she only realized he was deriding her as he rolled his eyes, his finger trailing back down her throat as she swallowed in discomfort. She didn't bother to hide the flinch as his forehead settled into the curve of her neck.

Yukari was definitely going to be screamed at when she got back for forcing her into a halter-neck dress.

The hands that had been parallel to her hips slid round the wood and gently held her back. One hand lay over bare skin and Hitomi had to bite her lip not to shudder or moan. The sudden heightened sense of her betrothed, his breath against the bare skin of her collarbone did nothing for the anger bubbling in her stomach. Whatever fear and disbelief she had felt at his sudden intrusion of her personal space was no longer the issue. His contemptuous chuckle however was.

Her hand swathed in his tunic dropped to her side and she ignored his face passing scant inches from hers until his nose was almost touching hers. Pulling her gaze from his, she stared at the chaise longue she had woken on. It was important she kept her voice neutral as possible, "Let me go." The anger rang in her ears, but she didn't care. She wanted to leave before he humiliated her further.

So she did the only other possible thing left to her.

This time her hand wasn't curled in his shirt, it was fisted and she leaned forward so her lips barely touched his ear, speaking at a normal volume, "Let me go now or the de Fanel clan's rule ends here and now." It took all of her cold fury to relax a fraction before she pitched forwards, trying to implant the one lesson of self defence she could remember.

Using the opponent's body weight against them.

She closed her eyes this time, no longer bothered to conceal the groan as she fell backwards, her skull tapping the wood beneath her and her feet dangling over the edge of the hard wood surface. She growled as his mouth hovered against her ear, muttering smugly, "Open your eyes." She sighed, counting slowly and pretending to lie down properly against the desk before she thrust her knee upward, aiming for rendering their wedding night useless completely, impossible even.

But she could only shriek as she felt the weight of his body press uncomfortably tight over hers, his knees either side of her, locking her legs onto the desk and her wrists in his grip. She narrowed her eyes to slits, wondering whether she would allow herself to spit in his face. If he was trying to make a point, he had done it. So tremendously well she felt tears spring to her eyes.

"Get off me. Now."

"No."

"Whatever stupid point you want to make, do so without harassing me. Now get OFF." She yelled, uncaring that his senses were a great deal sharper than hers and he was inches away from her. Her spine snapped taut and she tried to struggle, striking upwards, desperate to wriggle out of his grasp.

She stopped a second later. The sound of his moan vibrating from his chest pressed against hers, the jolt of something beneath her stomach as her hips thrashed against his and felt something. Something she had read about, heard about and on a few embarrassing occasions, seen. But to feel it against her belly, to know that _she_ had caused it…she didn't know how to feel.

"You don't know…" he whispered, his face snug in the curve of her shoulder, his breath dancing over her skin, his chest crushing hers. Not that that was the reason for her shortage of breath. He lifted his head slowly, his nose trailing along her jaw and she was desperate not to shift in discomfort, fearful of what her hips would encounter. "You have no idea…"

"You're still a child." He whispered.

His gaze was impenetrable and she had no clue just what he was trying to say. She was too angry to care.

"No, I never have an idea. Because you never tell me anything. You trying to prove a stupid point about how much of a _child_ I am—"

His kiss cut off her torrent of angry words.

It wasn't her first kiss. There had been many occasions his mouth had met hers, but it was only for show. She had never felt anything other than embarrassment and humiliation when she had met his eyes after to see no reaction or effect. They meant nothing to her but the furious energy of his lips brutally on hers, his body weight a breath away from crushing her, she couldn't help but tilt her head a fraction to wonder at the emotion.

His tongue slipped between her lips without a thought and she found herself writhing at the sensation of him inside her mouth, teasing her tongue to join his. Her eyes fluttered behind eyelids shut tight, terrified it was a dream or he really was that sadistic to prove a point. Well if Van was going to try and frighten her that way, she would have to push him back.

Her wrists left his grip and slid round his shoulders, against his neck and tangling in his hair, pulling him tighter against her. She felt his shift in surprise before his kiss grew in force, her lips already felt bruised. But she was lost to the feeling of his lips pressing against hers, caressing hers. His breath mingling with hers. Her fingers slid through his messy hair and she found an answer to a quandary she had secretly wondered about. His coal black bangs were so soft, pouring through her fingers and she enjoyed keeping his lips locked with hers.

Rational thought was only getting harder with the lack of air and the jolt of feeling Van had created. Not to mention the fact her first true kiss had hurdled over innocent, bypassed wandering and slammed into foreplay without as much as a by her leave. His hand cupping her face slid back down over her shoulder and up her arm to pry one hand from his grasp and lock her fingers with his.

His kiss eased a fraction, his tongue no longer fierce but coaxing, stirring the want in her stomach expertly. He was no longer violent, no longer forcing himself on her. So what was he doing? Why hadn't he stopped? Why was he suddenly becoming tender, gentle? As if he cared?

The need to breathe overwhelmed her and her nose couldn't take the burden so she tilted her mouth away, trying not to seem rejecting. Were they still playing a game? She inhaled greedily, opening her eyes as lights flashed from the lack of oxygen. But the pinhole of clarity dissolved as Van moved undeterred, his mouth pressing kisses to her cheek, down her jaw and sliding down her neck.

She inhaled a second time, desperate for another lungful only to feel her chest constrict as his teeth scraped the curve of her neck. Her pulse jumped and she became overly aware of the vein pounding in her neck as he sucked harshly on her skin. Squirming with all kinds of tingling, she arched her back as he bit down hard on her shoulder.

Her voice was unable to construct an actual word, so it escaped her lips as a strangled cry at the feel of his body pressing down deliberately on hers, his hips rocking against hers, forcing her back flat against the desk. Hitomi was so confused by what had just happened and felt for the second time that night the need to slap him. Van's hand had slid down from gripping hers, down her side and his thumb, oh gods his thumb was circling her bra. Her hips flexed to rise up again but they didn't.

"Stop." She spoke, feeling unable to breathe and tears pricking her eyesight.

She couldn't go any further. He had made his point. Stubborn or not she wouldn't let him take her virginity to prove a point or score one against him. Her fiancé was truly messed up.

Her ravaged skin felt cold and she shivered at the loss of his mouth. He had acceded her that, but he still hovered over her, was he really going to force her to move against him? She had thought her date set up by Yukari had been atrocious, but this was so much worse.

And she suddenly wished she hadn't removed her underwear, for want of an extra layer of security. It didn't help the feeling between her legs either, not having anything covering her. She could only pray her dress hadn't ridden up too far. Staring at the ceiling, she silently begged for some consolation from any passing deity.

"Aren't you going to get off me?" She asked, feeling far too tired and dismayed at what she had just let happen, all to prove a point. Well her point had been made, she was far from a child, lack of kissing experience or not. Maybe he would assume she was _loose_ and regularly engaged in such practices with many men on Earth. Then he would annul every smidgen of their betrothal and find a nice, docile girl who would follow his bidding to the letter.

He still didn't move. The feeling of his breath against her throat only made the vulnerable feeling with the lack of panties worse. She almost wondered what he would think if he discovered—

"Should I?" His words were neutral, no lack of breath or strain in his voice. He seemed almost completely unaffected, as if he was used to throwing girls down onto his desk and having his way with them. It had to be the sudden rush of hormones, fading swiftly as she felt very ill at the thought of being a girl in a long line of conquests.

"Your subjects may be happy to be treated like toys so go find one and leave me alone. You've made your damn point now get the fuck off of me."

Her eyes shut firmly, terrified of what his expression might be, still hovering only inches above her. It wasn't anger she worried about, it was amusement. If she had sacrificed her first kiss, her first truly passionate kiss all to prove a point and to find out her fiancé—arsehole or not—thought nothing of it and was as bad a womanizer as the Asturian Knight… Then she would only have herself to blame.

The overwhelming sensation of being dirty, soiled even for indulging in her hormones brought bile up her throat and she pushed him forcefully, jolting upright and trying to take deep, calming breaths. She wouldn't let him see her react. She couldn't cry and she couldn't throw up. It would give him the satisfaction and she wouldn't allow it.

Her eyes opened slightly and she slid a few inches forward to rest on the edge of the desk, swallowing the anger gingerly and trying not to look at him. It was a wonder that she had managed to push him off her, but even greater that he had fallen back and landed on the floor at her feet. Hitomi pondered the possibility of watching him unseen with the distinct lack of light. Only one lamp was in the room, illuminating the desk she sat on, so surely he wouldn't be able to see her fully.

Surreptitiously she lowered her eyelids, trying to peek at him to gauge his reaction. He sat on the floor, hands behind his back, not moving or making a sound. His head was bowed and she felt fear pulse through her stomach, terrified of just what he would say or do.

It was all very well to pretend she didn't care but Hitomi had known for a long time she was attached to her betrothed. Slightly attracted even. Arrogant prat or not, he had caused her to fall into many a daydream in class recollecting a training session with Balgus she had come across, her fiancé foregoing a shirt. As time passed the daydream grew from merely a memory to details she hadn't been aware of and other things. Other things that she could now look at in shame.

She wondered why she didn't move. Why she hadn't moved yet? Neither had he for that matter and it only dislodged her stomach further. And she couldn't help but ponder the angle of Van's gaze, specifically with her elevated position on his desk, the shortness of her obscene _Yukari approved_ dress and the dreaded fact she wasn't wearing panties.

Someone was laughing at her in the heavens, laughing, pointing, snorting and choking on their celestial beverage with hilarity.

"Van." She had no idea why she spoke. She wasn't so awkward to feel uncomfortable in silence. She had grown up surrounded by it, having tea on a weekly basis with a Prince, then a King. Her mulish betrothed had tortured her with silence for many years. But he had never done so after ravishing her and acting as if he was desperate to fuck her. As if the thought _had_ crossed his mind, had seared his thoughts so badly he had forced her down on his desk.

Speaking was the worst thing to do. He would feel obliged to reciprocate eventually and she would be subjected to another platter of cold humiliation served with embarrassed salad on the side. Shin-kun had tried to kiss her, she had pushed him away, he had called her frigid. Whatever Van would say would only be worse. Worse because she cared.

It was very likely he would call her a child and walk out. Clearly words were no longer effective, in his mind. Sexual harassment was a much better way to punish her for something his parents had inflicted on him, not her. She was just as much a victim.

The only thing she could be thankful for was the fact he chose to move at a speed she could see. He rose slowly upright and move towards her, stopping inches away from her. At least he was giving her some semblance of personal space. He probably felt he had made his point.

"Do you really think I'm that kind of man Hitomi? Do you?" His question came from nowhere, she was completely unaware of what he meant at all. Was he speaking rhetorically? Implying that his actions only minutes before was an example of what he _wouldn't do?_ Well he had taken his sadism to new heights if that was true.

What else could he mean? Staring at her so fiercely as if _she_ had insulted _him_. She had no idea what he was rambling on about now. But she had the distinct feeling that if she looked away, things would only get worse.

"Do you really believe I take after Schezar-san and his motley crew, that I would take any woman willing? That I would break the arrangements of our betrothal?"

"You're no virgin."

Her words slipped out faster than her mind could keep up. When it did, it promptly dug a hole and buried itself. Her eyes slid to the door over his shoulder, praying time and space would move just for her and put him outside the room. Just so she could escape from this awful situation. Romantic novels had no clue of the real situation. They never mentioned mortification, the desire to slap and cry and wash oneself with bleach.

Mistake or not, there would be no way in hell he would allow her to take back her words. Or try to avoid any confrontation. He would rip her apart and then leave her broken, all with his words. She still couldn't understand how her parents had no clue of her fiancé's cold, brutal sadism. If she tried to create a pillar of light in the state she was in, she could end up anywhere, even worse with him on her tail.

She flinched at his touch. His palm cupping her cheek, warm and rough, his gaze weary and angry; she couldn't take her eyes off him, half in wonder, half in terror at what he would do. She never thought he would raise a hand to her, but she couldn't escape the gnawing feeling he was itching to slap her. An apology would sound false and Hitomi had vowed never to let him belittle her to the point she became downtrodden. She was the future Queen of Fanelia after all.

Even that sentiment had lost its shine. But as her future husband took a step closer, the brush of his rough trousers sliding a fraction between her thighs, she wondered just what the hell he was going to do. She certainly didn't expect him to slide the hand on her cheek down the side of her throat, along her shoulder, down her bare arm to meet her hand and slide his fingers between hers gripping the edge of the desk with a furious tension.

"I tried." His words once more made no sense. Nor did the pained expression on his face as if she had accused him of…well it would only make sense if they were in an actual relationship rather than bound together by crackpot parents and a tea stained piece of paper. He sounded remorseful, as if…if he had wanted…surely…

"I thought I could wait. But we never managed…I thought if…" He stopped to stare at her attentively and she couldn't stop herself from shifting with discomfort, wincing at the feel of the cold desk against her almost bare backside. She just hoped Draconians couldn't read minds. His face changed dramatically and it startled her further. The raw guilt changed to tainted amusement as he leaned closer, whispering tauntingly "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Hitomi felt it was all she could do to nod, trying not to feel terrifically aware of how close he was, how warm he had felt, how painful the ache between her thighs had become. His expression switched again to one she couldn't recognize, she felt surprised as he took a step closer, his knee now firmly between her bare thighs. His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. "I've wanted you for so long. But I couldn't push you. You were too young. Too innocent."

The hand tangled with hers tightened and a jolt of pain shot up her arm at his strength as he continued, "It wasn't right. You're still completely naïve to the truth."

Just as she thought she was starting to slowly unravel his puzzle of words, he lost her completely as his lips slowly, teasingly brushed hers. With both sets of eyes open she couldn't tell what was going on in his expression, aside from the aggravatingly sexy smirk. If he had been raised on Earth, no doubt he would have women throwing themselves at him. Not that he didn't here.

Her hand tangled with his tightened at the sudden thought…

Whatever his intent was, she couldn't stop herself from wondering. He had all but said he had slept with other women. Had she ever met any of them? Had any been more than just one night? Did he have a regular woman? Someone in the Palace who she had met time and time again, who looked at her and smirked?

Any confidence she had had, or anger channelled into lust was fading dizzingly quick and she looked up at the pristine white ceiling once more as she tried to speak without sounding sick or upset. "I should go."

"No."

Hitomi barely heard his words, too struck by the sudden feel of something sliding up her bare thigh. Looking down she could only stare at the tanned fingers gliding up the inside of her thigh, spreading over the top and making her ever grateful for Yukari insisting she shave all the way up her leg. She couldn't look up. Not when he was doing this.

What had been said, admitted pulsed in her mind but the thrum of her blood in her ears, the tingle of his touch on her weighed heavier. She wanted to know just what he would do. How far he would go. What it would be like to…

Her head rolled back in shock as his teeth grazed her neck only to bite down hard. His fingers had swept under her skirt and touched her. "Why aren't you wearing underwear?" He hissed, his face pressed against her neck and his hand sliding back down her thigh, shaking slightly. Hitomi could only shift, unnerved by his rough tone and inwardly screaming at Yukari. How was she going to explain this?

"I…" She couldn't think. With the swirling questions in her mind and the warm heavy hand lying under her awfully short skirt, his fingers tracing unnerving circles, the calluses seeming to burn her skin. "Tell me." He whispered, his lips against the curve of her ear, his breath beating down on her skin like unbearable heat.

"I took them off."

"When?" He demanded, the growl in his chest rumbling against hers. Hitomi had never wished more for personal space but she knew if she tried to move or pull away from him, she would only feel more of him against her. And she needed to think, she _had_ to think.

"After…after dinner. I came home and they were…"

"What were they?" His question made her fix her gaze on the ceiling. If she could leave she would keep her eyes on the ceiling. It was a rather pristine shade of white. Like she was, really. After all she was nineteen and the most exciting underwear she had was a pair of pink panties with a heart on them. She had never needed _exciting_ underwear. But that wasn't the point.

"Tell me Hitomi. Why did you remove your underwear?" His voice was deeper, she knew he was angry but how could she focus when his hand was up her skirt. She blinked to try and focus her gaze on the sea of white above her. Her intake of breath escaped a second later as a gasp as his thumb slid past her curls and circled a part of her that made her moan, her back jerking in response.

She felt her arm tingle, willing it to move and grip his wrist slowly rotating against her skirt. Hitomi couldn't stop the whimper from her throat, even as she bit her lower lip in protest. "Why?" His word echoed in her mind and she could just about comprehend what he was asking.

The hand that refused to reach out and stop him, gripped the edge of the desk maniacally as she managed to reply, between pants of breath, "They were itchy…and…and…uncomfortable. I couldn't…couldn't get comfortable." As if in recollection of the awful underwear now lying on her living room floor, her hips shifted.

His chuckle only made it worse. Or better. She couldn't decide. As her hips twisted, his thumb stroked her bundle of nerves and she jerked forwards, her hand thrashing out to grip his shoulder as she trembled. "Why were they uncomfortable?" He whispered and she moaned as his thumb circled the overly sensitive part of her bared to him.

"They were…" She panted again, trying to remember what the word was, trying to remember what she was trying to say in the first place.

"What were they?" His tongue slid out to taste her neck and she trembled, wanting to push her hips forward, to feel him again. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted…

"Itchy. They were itchy. Ugh." Her words were rewarded a second later by his thumb and finger stroking her. Her hips thrust freely, wanting more, wanting him to stroke the part of her that had never been touched. "Van." She gasped.

Her focus changed as his other hand pulled free from her agonized grip, sliding up her bare arm to place a thumb on her chin and pull her gaze to meet his. Hitomi wondered whether it would be easier to shut her eyes, to avoid looking at him. That way she wouldn't have to see whatever triumph in his gaze, whatever sick amusement he was getting from touching her, knowing it had never happened before.

Sighing, she kept her eyes open, only for them to widen as his hand slid across her cheek, gently pulling her forwards. His kiss this time was tender, his lips almost tentative but seeking, as if he was searching for her approval. She sighed and let him press his lips to hers, his hand still spread under her skirt. Her moan was swallowed by his tongue thrusting into her mouth, at the same moment his thumb swiped over her and a finger slid into her.

Yukari had warned her it would hurt, but Hitomi could only feel the heat spreading up her body as his thumb and finger worked against and in her in tandem. Her hand gripping his shoulder slid up to fist in his deliciously dishevelled hair, keeping him firmly against her as his tongue mimicking the actions of his finger. It no longer mattered to keep her hips still, she moved against him, urging him further, higher and desperate for more.

His mouth slid from hers, across her jaw and back down to her neck as he added a second finger to the first inside her. The shock and ripple of pleasure locked her back rigid and she fell back onto the desk, only stopped from hitting the wooden surface by an arm across her back. She couldn't breathe, let alone think with his lips attacking her neck, no doubt leaving marks as his fingers slid inside her, pushing her further towards something she had never thought of, but was now anxious to achieve.

As she leaned back, the angle of his fingers changed and she moaned his name in praise, thrusting her hips and squeezing her thighs, trying to reach whatever was pending. She needed it. It was a hazy thought but it would be the only time that night she thanked Yukari for forcing her to wear the world's most uncomfortable panties.

Her breath escaped in gasps, pants and whimpers as she tried to move in sync with his fingers, never quite able to meet his thrusts in time, though it was clear he didn't want her to. He wanted her to feel helpless and fraught with tautly wound tension that only he would allow to ease. Every few seconds his thumb would swirl across the concentrated point of nerves and she would pull harder on his tunic, lost in mounting pleasure and anger at his torture.

"Van, please." She sobbed, her legs shaking from the building pressure, wanting nothing more than to relieve it. She needed it, needed him. Whatever game he was now playing, she had lost completely and wholeheartedly, so why hadn't he finished? Why was he so hellbent on driving her further and further into a haze, only to stop and slide his glistening fingers back down her bare thigh?

Hitomi cried out, the loss of his touch almost crushing to her lungs and she couldn't even yell at him. A growl passed her lips but she couldn't articulate her anger, her fury. He had started this, so he had better damn well finish it.

With every scrap of energy she could, she tried to push herself up on the desk to see just what the hell he was doing and scream at him for torturing her.

Any thought to scream fell with a whimper as he pulled her up to face him, aligning their bodies perfectly and she could feel him. Between her thighs, without any barrier of cotton or interminable lace he pressed against her. Her hand in his tunic, scraped for any measure of balance and she could only shudder at the feel of him.

His eyes were darker than she had ever seen, even with the small candle behind her he looked as tense as she did. He made no move to kiss or touch her, only roll his hips against hers and watch as her head fell back, the ability to breathe suddenly impossible as she felt his hardness slide up against her heated sex.

Hitomi was still lost in a haze of untapped pleasure and shock, trying to pull her gaze back to his when she felt his hands push up the indecently short skirt of her dress, holding her bare hips painfully tight. Her backside was now uncovered and she shivered, not that she could tell whether it was because of the cold air or his scorching touch. It showed just how unaware she was as the pain seared through her, stunning her as to his action. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks at the awful feeling. He was inside her, but it felt terrible. He was pulling her apart and she didn't want this.

He was right. She was loathe to admit it, but she wasn't ready. _They_ weren't. Innocence wasn't the point.

"Van." She gasped, begging him not to move, her mind ablaze with shock at what had just happened. She could only be grateful for the fact he had stilled. He wasn't moving aside from his hand, sliding through her wavy, mussed hair and planting kisses on her forehead.

The tears kept blurring her vision and she was too afraid to move in case she would break. "Please." She whimpered, pressing her forehead against his collarbone. It was too much, he was too much and it wouldn't…it just couldn't…

He groaned as she tried to shift away, she cried out again as another jolt of pain struck her. She moved again in response to the pain and whimpered this time, desperate for him to leave her. How could it get any better? She didn't know and she didn't want to.

"Hitomi." Her name seemed to struggle from his lips, his teeth gritted and she could only stare impassively as the once delicious ache throbbed hurtfully, his hand sliding from her hip round to where they were…oh gods. They were having sex. Or trying to. However many times she had conjured images of him, of them together, she had never imagined the pain or the lack of any warning.

It was a moan that met his as his thumb once more found the tightly wrought bundle of nerves and coaxed her gently. He was trying to get her to relax, but Hitomi couldn't focus on anything but the shock and pain coursing through her body. A tear escaped as she remembered just how good it had been only minutes before. Why did it have to be like this?

He shifted at the same moment his thumb pressed against her and she felt a wave of combined pleasure and pain. They weren't equally balanced but she knew, she knew him, she knew he wouldn't give up. His thrusts were shallow, holding her tightly to him and it took an eternity before she felt herself lean against him, her hips circling and a moan escaped her tightly clenched jaw.

Her hands sought out his tunic and she lifted it off him angrily, determined that it wouldn't end this way. It just couldn't. Her fingers slid up and down his torso making him groan and pull her even tighter, his hips connecting with hers more harshly. She whimpered at the feeling, knowing that she would have to fight against the pain and try…try…

He gasped as she slid her legs round his back, pulling him closer, deeper inside her and for a fraction of a second she felt something flutter deep within her stomach. Something to reach for. She moved again and felt him move with her, guiding her hips to keep with his rhythm. Van pushed her back down onto the desk and moved with a faster pace, making her arch against him.

It was tender how he undid the clasp of her dress, the material pooling around her waist. Her bra was pulled down gently, and his tongue slid over an agonized nipple. She shuddered and her body moved as he shifted his hips again.

The pain was fading fast and she could only grip onto the man frantically thrusting into her. His mouth crashed down on hers then and she could barely concentrate on anything other than the new, growing sense of pleasure that was stronger than anything she had felt before. It was everything she could do to meet his pace so unfailingly.

Gripping his shoulders, piercing his skin with her blunt nails, she writhed and moved with every muscle in her body attuned to him and what he was giving her. She needed him for this and he wouldn't let go.

He was growing more erratic, his teeth scraping her shoulder and neck, groaning every few seconds as she met his thrusts dead on. She could feel the end nearing, the desperate need for completion. Only for his back to sharply stiffen and the feeling of him release inside her.

Whatever shock she had felt was overwhelmed at the sensation of him pulling out of her, fully spent.

Hitomi met his hazed, garnet eyes for a second before her vision blurred and she found herself lying on her bedroom floor. Tears flooded her eyes in shock, completely lost as to how or why she had returned. She shivered at the lack of body heat that had surrounded her only seconds before. Her pulse was still racing and her bra pushed down to her waist. Even though she had gotten rid of her panties hours before, she was more acutely aware of the dull ache between her thighs, still in need of attention. Slowly she crawled to the door and locked it before climbing into her bed and pulling the covers over her.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! So what are your thoughts? Questions? Demands? :D

Also Worlds, B&G and Shadows are all slowly coming along! Studying Chinese from scratch at Degree Level is evil times!

Cheers for reading!

Suils


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